


Blind Love

by Kayasurin



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: F/M, Jackrabbit Week, M/M, With Pooka and powers, blind dating, real world AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-04-02
Packaged: 2018-05-29 11:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6373720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kayasurin/pseuds/Kayasurin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackrabbit Week<br/>One E. Aster Bunnymund is having a hard time finding someone interested in Burgess' lone Pooka. His friends offer to help him look. Fortunately, they're not <i>completely</i> terrible at it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

On waking up, E. Aster Bunnymund knew exactly two things.

One, he was experiencing that peculiar sort of pain that enabled him complete clarity of thought while at the same time making every last eye blink agonizing, every breath make him want to throw up, and every sound an ice pick slammed full strength into his skull through his ear. In short, he was hungover.

Second, Nicholas St. North was going to die.

Just as soon as the horrific bright light went away.

Nick yanked the blankets away. Aster whined, entirely involuntary, as his eyeballs exploded into white hot pain.

"Good morning, my friend!" Ow. Ow and ow and ow and - ice picks. His ears. Did Nick come with volume control? No, no he did not.

Large hands grabbed him by the back of the neck, and hauled him upright. Hangover was immediately forgotten, replaced by a desperate need for _air_. Aster flailed, and was dropped on the floor in a heap.

A heap of dirty laundry. He groaned. He _felt_ like dirty laundry. "How," he croaked, and paused to clear his throat. "How many times," he rasped, sounding not much better. "Adult. Not kitten. No scruff. Back of neck means strangle. Strangle means dead."

Nick frowned down at him, arms akimbo and not a sign he'd been drinking last night. "Come, Bunny-man, surely you will not hide all day. You know better! Hah," he added, looking some horrific version of alive and loud and _still talking, oh god_. "Who was it that taught me two glasses of water for every one of vodka, hm? A shower, and drinks, and then we will see if you feel better."

Aster groaned, and pulled a shirt over his face. "Hate you," he mumbled.

Nick grabbed him by the shoulders and hauled him back up onto his feet, then force-marched him to the bathroom.

The little-used shower got more use that morning than it normally got in a month. North seemed determined to both boil Aster alive, and freeze him to death, though probably he was just trying to get the perfect water temperature. Aster could have told him that it was pretty much impossible, but he was too busy shivering in the cold or trying to escape the heat. He would have tried to escape the _shower_ , but it was barely big enough to fit him and North was wedged in the doorway.

Aster was certainly awake after the experience, but definitely not happy. And still hungover. Nick yanked him out, scrubbed him roughly with a towel, and then dragged him - still dripping! - out of the bathroom and down the short hall to the overly bright kitchen.

At which point, Nick started giving Aster glasses of water to drink, a nasty-edged grin suggesting that if Aster didn't, he'd find himself drinking it _anyways_.

"So, my friend," Nick said, somewhere around glass number four. At this point, the ache in Aster's bladder was quickly replacing the ache in his head. "What persuaded you to contest with Sandy in _drinking_ , of all things?"

"Tell you what," Aster said, shifting uncomfortably. "Lemme just duck into the loo and I'll question my choices in friends, then come back and tell you what."

Nick waved him off. Aster glanced longingly at the nearest window, but it was across his living room and besides. Outside was where the light was.

Once back in the bathroom, he locked the door and quickly took care of one source of pain, at least. Why had he gone into a drinking contest with Sandy, anyways? Sandy could hold his alcohol better than anyone, even Aster, who as a Pooka had certain advantages mere humans did not. Even meta-humans. It'd seemed like a good idea at the time, but...

Oh, right. Nick had been waxing rhapsodic about his new lady, and Aster had just... not wanted to deal with that. And... oh. Oh no.

He sighed, and let his head fall forward. Great. Not only had he lost a drinking contest to a human whose only powers involved monochrome colouring, he'd then crawled into North's lap for cuddles and petting, while complaining to Tooth about how alone he was.

That was just... Why couldn't he be like other drunks, stick a lampshade on his head and dance on tables? No, he had to get handsy and forget what personal space was...

Well. He stared at the door, and sighed. His head _was_ feeling better, now that he'd hydrated some. And his bathroom was the size of a postage stamp and smelt a little like wallpaper glue. He certainly couldn't _hide_ in the bathroom, though oh, he wanted to. He really truly wanted to.

But... well. Nick was probably making Hangover Breakfast, and his bathroom smelt like wallpaper glue.

He slunk back out to the kitchen, and slumped down at the table. "Don't suppose," he asked, as Nick took a moment away from the skillet to put yet another glass of water down in front of him. "Would you forget what I'd been babbling on last night?"

Nick turned around, and shook his head. "I didn't know you felt that way."

No chance, then. He sighed, and started picking at the cheese and leek omelette Nick slid in front of him. "It's not like I don't have options," he said, ears falling back at the thought of them. There was the plant nursery he worked at. There was the unofficial daycare he helped out with. There were the fellow students in his art classes. It was only that, well...

Well. They were human. He was the only Pooka in Burgess.

It narrowed the dating pool. Somewhat. A little.

"I thought no one wanted to take risks with fur?" Nick asked, not _entirely_ unkindly. He was sympathetic, at least; hardly anyone wanted to take risks with a man who was nearly indestructible and strong enough to bench press a larger fire truck.

Even Tooth and Sandy had known each other well enough before their powers came in. Sandy's had been triggered by the experimental drugs he took for his narcolepsy, while Tooth's... Grief triggering a meta-human's powers was not unheard of.

Aster knew of only one couple where one partner had fur and the other didn't. His sensei down at the dojo looked like a rat, but that hadn't stopped him from ending up married to an Irish woman who tended to light her hair on fire when she got emotional. It'd... set the standard, Aster supposed, the sort of relationship he wanted. Not the woman - and thankfully for his parents, he had seven brothers and sisters to provide blood-relation grandchildren - but the respect? The sheer casual acceptance? The old rat was quite obviously a rat, but it never seemed to matter. The way their teenage sons being humanoid turtles didn't matter.

It would be nice, he supposed, to end up with someone who didn't care he was a giant, talking rabbit-man.

"There's someone for everyone," he finally said, feeling... not pained, just tired. It wasn't that he was picky, just, well. Completely gay, so there went half of the world's population right there, just because a woman just didn't do it for him. Beautiful and striking and fascinating... but so were mountains and flowers and the shine in an abalone shell or the way a river cut through stone. And of course, so far as personalities and kinks went, no one who had a thing for _animals_. He was a _person_ , he just...

There weren't too many men out there who were both okay with fur and didn't automatically treat him like a clever animal, at least not when it came to romance. Most of his coworkers were great, they just... were painfully straight, painfully oblivious, or rubbed him the wrong way just enough that romance and sex were out of the question.

"Perhaps you are looking in wrong place," Nick said. He was stroking his beard, and looking thoughtful. Should've been a warning, that, except for the pounding in Aster's head. Nick looking thoughtful tended to end with getting banned from stores and running from enraged livestock.

"Well, where should I look, then?" Aster demanded.

Nick beamed. "Oh, my friend," he said, and clapped one hand down on Aster's shoulder. Something creaked a warning, either the chair or the Pooka's skeleton. "Tooth and I have many ideas for that."

... That sounded ominous.


	2. Murder

Aster pressed his back against a faintly chill, paint-over-cinderblocks wall, and shuddered. The Overland Skating Rink was fairly typical of its kind, except for one thing.

Along with the indoor ice rink, there was something of a food court, just a bit classier than the usual chips-and-burger fare. There were only five food stands, but since the rink was across the street from the local high school and just a block or so down from Burgess' piddling downtown, it saw a fair bit of business. No Golden Arches here, though; the food stands were all owned by locals, no chains. Fortunately for Aster, one was fully vegetarian and the rest all had vegetarian options.

As far as a place to have a date, he could do a lot worse. Sure, he wasn't able to go skating - they'd never get on his feet, and he wasn't that graceful on the ice anyways - but there was a movie theatre ten minute's walk away, a bookstore same distance but in the opposite direction, an arcade beside the rink...

Today, however, all he really wanted was to run screaming.

Or murder someone.

"Hey."

Aster nearly jumped out of his _fur_. The guy staring at him was someone he'd seen around the rink before; white hair, pale skin, probably lecustic or meta-human, or both. He was dressed in the rink's employee uniform, but they didn't come with name tags.

"Yeah?" he asked, and felt himself cringe slightly.

The guy, young enough to still pass as a kid, smiled with an edge of sympathy. "Hiding from your date?"

He glared, and then faltered at the sound of a braying laugh. "Is it that obvious?" he asked, barely holding back from peering around the corner in dread.

"You're only trying to merge with the wall, dude." The kid looked back towards the food court, and shook his head. "C'mon. He won't find you in the employees only. Did you get him to pay for your food, at least?"

"Opposite, actually," Aster grumbled. Nick had warned him Phil Groundhog was off work, and it wasn't like the prices were so high he couldn't spot a potential mate a meal. He'd spent more on Nick just because, and in his experience, this was how dates went. If one person paid for the meal this time, than next...

Yeah, no, definitely no next time.

"Sucks." The kid shoved a door open, marked - as expected - _employees only_ and shrugged. "I was going to toss him out anyways, the commentary was getting inappropriate. Hang out here for a couple minutes, stay away from the hatch or people will think you're sharpening skates," he added, gesturing towards the far corner of the room. There were a few pieces of intimidating looking machines that way, while closer to the door were a bunch of beat-up looking couches and a coffee machine that must've seen the sixties. Possibly the forties.

"Thanks for this," Aster said.

The kid shrugged. "No problem. Hey, who'm I rescuing, anyways?"

"Call me Aster."

"Great," the kid said, and grinned. "Call me Jack." The grin faded as a sudden commotion sounded back in the direction of the food court, and he sighed. "Right. Duty calls."

"Give him a kick in the nuts for me," Aster muttered, and went to investigate the coffee.

* * *

"And then the bloody ratbag went and grabbed the poor sheila by the arse!" Aster stopped waving his half-full mug of tea around, and took a quick gulp. Good, it'd gone lukewarm while he ranted. "You've got shite friends, Nick!"

"Contacts," Nick stressed, and shook his head. "Not a friend. I am sorry, I thought someone with fur would be less..."

"Clearly not," Tooth pointed out. "And where's Sne - Sneh - Um..."

"Snežana," Nick said, the name... word... not sounding any easier to pronounce the fifth time. "I told you, at work. Besides, she is new to town, would only have students to suggest."

"Starting to believe this woman doesn't exist, mate."

Nick's glare was half-hearted and more than a touch fond. What'd he put in his tea, a shot of vodka? "She exists! A more beautiful woman - ow!"

Tooth lowered her fist. " _Focus_. Aster, I'm so sorry about that date. The others went well, though, didn't they?"

All _two_. "They weren't bad," he admitted, finally sitting back down. Just nothing... he'd been certain, at the end of each date, that he wouldn't mind spending time with either bloke, but anything beyond catching up over fifteen minutes of coffee was a bit much. The one - David? Daryl? Duke? D-something - had been one of those obsessive gardener types, which was hardly a bad thing, just... Aster's gardening was more about recreating the wild, not regimented and planned flowerbeds. Also, their respective gardening styles had given each other the chills.

As for the second fellow, he'd been alright, just... dull. Aster couldn't even remember what he'd looked like, and had seriously considered recommending him to Tooth as a possible CIA agent. Or FBI. Or some other bland and undercover job.

"Right," Tooth said, and glared at North. "I think I've got someone you might be interested in. How do you feel about divorcees with full custody of their kid?"

Aster raised one eyebrow. "Well, I like kids, and as long as he's not hung up...?"

"Professor Pitchner is many things," Tooth said, "But hung up over his ex is nowhere near one of them."


	3. Memories

He was coming to know this ice rink better than his workplace. Aster accepted a large cup of hot chocolate, barely enough real cocoa mixed into the powder to give him a buzz, never mind the hallucinations and hyperactivity he always had to be wary of. Supposedly the rink hot chocolate tasted like shite - at that better than the coffee, which everyone said was worse - but since he'd never had the real stuff, it tasted alright to him.

"Hey, Aster!"

He looked over, and smiled at Jack. "Hey."

"Another date?" Jack asked, even as he finished tugging his sweater on over his work clothes. He did an obvious look over of the mostly empty tables, and frowned. "Early? Stood up again? Man, that sucks..."

Aster gestured at Tooth, who waved. Jack looked shocked; well, Aster had only been meeting blokes, after all. "Friend," he explained. "Gonna have ourselves a right proper chinwag."

"Well, I hope you enjoy that, then," Jack said, and saluted him when he left. Tooth was a bit more obvious in checking out Jack's backside than Aster would've liked, but the kid was walking away. He probably hadn't noticed.

"Who was that?" she asked.

There wasn't any point pretending he didn't know what she was talking about. "Jack. He works here. Saved my hide with the Groundhog."

"Attractive, isn't he?"

Aster snorted. No denying that, but... "He's too young. Can't be out of high school yet."

Tooth sipped at her water, and smiled. "Really now... is that so? You could always wait two to four years. He certainly doesn't seem to mind the fur."

"Tooth!" Thank god for his fur; no one could see him blush. "You can't just _say_ things like that!"

"Why not? I obviously did."

Aster sipped at his drink, and carefully pointed the rim of his cup at her. "Working with all those artefacts has made you loopy," he declared.

"Old books, you goose." Tooth buzzed her wings, and sat back in her chair. "Alright. Enough jokes. How are you doing?"

"In general?" he asked, looking away. There was a class of youngsters just learning to skate, if the tottering and occasional fall meant anything. "Or with the dating?"

Tooth sighed. "I suppose I should ask about the general. But the dating has taken things over, hasn't it?"

For her, he supposed it had. "Is it really that bad to be single?"

Her wince was a thing of grace and refinement. And chagrin. "That bad?"

Aster sighed, and took a bracing swallow of warm, fake chocolate. "I still like the idea," he said, the words coming out clipped, almost American in the cadence and stressing of the syllables. "Having someone to share my life with. Arguing over whose turn it is to take the laundry over to the 'mat or what can and cannot go in the compost heap. Sharing my couch. My bed." His ears flickered around like mad at the last, but they were almost alone and Tooth wanted to know.

"But the dates... Tooth, they've been bad. Maybe not horrific, except for Groundhog, but first two... they were bland. Fourth was... Well, _you_ know." He'd only broken into her house and interrupted a spot of canoodling with Sandy to rant about it. He had all the respect and tolerance for people into BDSM, but having Pitchner tell him he preferred to be called 'sir' or 'master'... Well, BDSM was all fine and well for the people who were into it, but Aster was _not_. And didn't intend to start!

He was a giant rabbit. He was covered in fur. _Any_ sex was going to be kinky, even if it was as vanilla and unimaginative as plain mashed potatoes.

"Fifth, sixth, and seventh... Tooth, I just..." He clutched at the fur under one ear in frustration. "If I wasn't arguing with them about everything - and not the fun kind of arguing - it was struggling to find some topic of conversation that didn't involve... I don't know... the weather. And eighth figured asking me what it was like as a nudist was a great opener, and tried to get me in the sack before we'd gone much past the hi-hello stage!"

"Yeah, I thought that bartender North suggested was a little sketchy," Tooth muttered. She cleared her throat, and turned to study the offerings at the food stands. "Do you... want us to stop setting you up?"

Aster sighed, and finished off the hot chocolate. "Honestly... yeah, kinda? It's been.. Well, it's been a string of less than fun times, you know?"

Tooth looked back at him, and covered his hand with both of hers. "I know, Aster," she soothed. "I know. I'll talk to North. You're right, you've had enough. And maybe, once we stop trying to set you up, the perfect person will waltz through the door."

Aster couldn't help but laugh. It mostly covered the door opening, but not the familiar sound of Jack's voice as he called out. "Forgot my coat!"

For some reason, that just made him laugh harder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick note, since I mention it: BDSM is all fine and dandy as long as it's not forced down random stranger's throats. Good BDSM is about consent and negotiation. People who insist on their "sub" or "slave" to walk around in public on a leash - NOT COOL.
> 
> Pitchner is the bad BDSM guy. He deserves a punch to the face.


	4. Myth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, my research shows Snežana is pronounced "Snee" (as in the first part of sneeze) and then "Jana". I have a feeling North had his Strong Russian Accent on top, thus everyone's trouble with the name.

"Snežana! Allow me to introduce my friend, Aster!" North's clap to Aster's shoulder nearly sent the Pooka face first into the table; as it was, he'd be feeling _that_ one for a while. "... Whoops."

"Nicholas," he growled, and stood even as he was turning around.

He came face-to-jugular notch with someone who wasn't Nick, and probably didn't deserve to be glared at. Though, they were taller than he was, and right now... He tilted his head back, perhaps a bit more belligerently than the gesture needed to be, and regarded the woman with something close to exasperation.

The woman, presumably Snežana, was two inches shorter than Nick, which made her several inches taller than Aster's six-foot-one eye level. She was as broad as Nick, and looked like she made a living carrying cows around all day, one under each arm. Pleasant enough face, and her braided hairstyle screamed for a horned helmet to finish it off.

She smiled, and held one hand out. "Call me Jana," she said. "Nicholas has told me so much about you."

"If it's bad, he lied," Aster said, and carefully shook hands. Jana clearly had better control over her grip than Nick did, since he came out of the experience without bruises. Nick still had problems with that.

"Only good, which I take it means it's all true?" she asked, and pulled out two chairs. Nick dropped down into one, beaming, while she took the other. "This is a nice place," Jana added, without waiting for a response. "I haven't had a chance to come here before, but my students all speak well of it."

"Bit of a social hub," Aster agreed. Despite the multitude of bad dates, he liked it. The food court employees all recognized him, and there might've been some kind of competition to come up with the tastiest of vegetarian menus. He knew when the skating lessons were, the free skating, the hockey games - which he made sure to avoid as subtly as possible - and Jack's schedule, such as it was.

He refused to feel guilty about it. There was nothing to feel guilty about. Jack was always here. Aster liked coming by when he had the free time. Jack was friendly. Aster didn't mind having friends. An age difference of twenty years meant nothing to friendly acquaintances.

If he told himself that, he might even start to believe it.

Jana looked around the food court, and eyed one shop that seemed to specialize in Russian-lite meals. Beef stroganoff featured every Wednesday, coulibiac made him consider adding fish to his diet - Pooka could handle fish and bugs, and fish was more socially acceptable - and the kissel was something he'd fight a bear for.

"I will go see if they have borscht," she said. "Nicholas, is there anything you wish?"

"Ah," Nick said, going faintly pink above his beard. "Pizza." He jerked a thumb at the near-obligatory pizza-and-chicken shop, and shrugged at Jana's mock-pity. "Donavan has a thin-crust meat lover's to rival Italy."

"Long as it's not a Hawaiian," Aster said, "Italians might even consider the possibility for half a second. Maybe. If you got them tipsy first." He pushed away from the table and waved at a third shop; the only purely vegetarian option in the food court. He felt like a noodle dish. "Grab a kissel cup for me and I'll pay you back?" he asked Janna.

"Get me a strawberry-banana smoothie and we will call it even," she offered. Aster nodded, and the three of them separated to grab their food. It didn't take long; it was off-hours for the local school and businesses, so Aster, at least, only needed to specify which meal he wanted and wait for the nice woman to portion out his share into a waxed-paper bowl.

"Thinking of a triad, dear?" she asked, ringing him up.

Aster choked, and shook his head frantically until his ears whipped back and forth. "Friends," he rasped. "Just friends."

"Well I know you've been having all those dates, and it'd be nice to see you happy. Friends are just as good. Twelve-seventy-five, please."

Aster handed over the money, dropped a tip in the jar, and managed to make it back to their table without staggering. A triad? Not that he had any problems with the idea, as long as it was someone else in a triad, but him? No. He just... no. Too many hands to keep track of, and that didn't even involve sex.

He didn't realize he'd zoned out until someone touched his shoulder. He jumped, and clutched at the table to keep from over-balancing and falling off his chair. Aster snapped his head around, and blinked.

"Jack?"

Jack raised his eyebrows, grinning. "You were a million miles away, I called your name like, twice. You okay?"

"Fine, fine, just thinking." He forced himself to relax, and smiled up at Jack. "How're you doing, then?"

"Ugh." Jack pulled a chair out, and flopped down into it. "School. It _hurts_ , Aster, it hurts so bad. Why do I hav'ta go to school?"

Jana walked up behind Jack, and grinned. "Societal demands," she said. "And family. What would you do if you dropped out?"

"Go on the run," Jack mumbled, before turning to look at Jana. "My sister would kill me."

Jana looked from Jack to Aster, and back again, before her grin softened into something calmer. "It's good to see you," she said. "Though considering where we are, I should have expected it."

"Yeah, yeah..." Jack sighed, and stood up. "Speaking of, I have'ta cover the skate sharpening." He patted Aster on the shoulder. "Don't zone out in traffic, Cottontail."

Aster wrinkled his nose at the nickname, but nodded. "Careful with the blades."

He turned and poked at his food while Nick and Jana sat down with their own meals. Jana looked amused, which, well... he was a bit wary of an amused woman, is all.

"What?" he asked.

"I didn't know you knew Jack," she said, turning to eye the short hallway Jack had vanished down. She turned back, some wicked spark of mischief in her eyes. "Aster, what would you say to me setting you up on a date? I know a student who you might like. I can promise, even if romance doesn't come out of it, I suspect friendship will."

Aster raised his eyebrows, and then snorted. "And if you're wrong?"

"No one will ever try setting you up again," she promised. "Just the one, that's all."

... He really should say no. All of the dates had been disasters, to one degree or another, and he didn't even know Jana. She didn't know him. Anyone she sent him off with would be a shot in the dark, and the chances of her getting it right were somewhere around one in a hundred-thousand. Well, maybe a little less; Burgess' population was around fifty-thousand outside of peak season, like now. Still...

"One," he said, and jabbed a finger in Nick's direction when he opened his mouth. "This student a bloke?"

"He is, yes," Jana said. Looking at her, Aster couldn't help but think about crocodiles and their smiles. Still, he'd agreed. It'd only be one date. How bad could it be?


	5. Mischief

Aster knew he was acting a bit like a spoilt brat, but he couldn't stop glaring at the sign either. FunWorld's Mini Golf blazed at him in a riot of bright colours on a dark blue background, cheerful music tinkling at him from the speakers that weren't hidden as well as they should have been.

What was wrong with the skating rink? It was just as public, no doubt had better food, and didn't involve trying to whack a neon-coloured golf ball over a bridge and through a mock-castle gateway. Or trolls. Smiling trolls that apparently _sang at you_ if you moved too close.

The families going in for a fun time of mini-golf gave him a bit of a wide berth. He'd have felt ashamed, if the kids hadn't been acting so amused at it all. Giant grumpy rabbit glaring at the mini-golf park, great entertainment.

He heard a familiar laugh, and turned even as he wondered just when this person's laugh had become so recognizable. Jack seemed to wade through the minor crowd, dodging the odd shoulder bag or small child with a ceaseless grin.

"Hey," he said. "You look good, are those actual trousers?"

Aster cleared his throat, and hooked his thumbs in his belt. "Yes. Well. Shorts. Technically."

"Maybe Capri's," Jack said, peering far too intently at Aster's legs. "Hard to tell, you walk digigrade. Digit-grade? Tippy toes."

"Did you really...?" Easier to focus on Jack's language choices - tippy toes? Really? - than on how good Jack looked, in a loose, blue sweater and pale blue jeans. The sweater sleeves had been rolled up to just above Jack's elbows, revealing a surprising amount of lean, muscled forearms.

Not that Aster noticed. Much. He tried not to, anyways.

Jack grinned, and laughed again, before reaching up to touch Aster's necklace. "Okay, does this have some special meaning?" he asked, lifting the stone to turn it over. "Or is it just 'cause it brings out the colour of your eyes?"

Aster cleared his throat. "Opals, well, they're a - my grandfather financed the family's move to America with them. Opals. He dug them out himself. It's a thing. The opal mine. Bunnymund owned."

"Well, it looks good, along with these little stones...?" Oh, he should've worn something other than a light vest, no matter how hot he was going to get with a fur coat today. Then he wouldn't feel Jack's fingers brushing against his fur, right at the base of his neck. It felt good. It really shouldn't have. There was somewhere around forty years between their ages, he needed to stop. Right now.

"Shards of darvite tourmaline," he said, somehow managing to shift his weight and pull back from those soft brushes of contact. Jack didn't seem to notice. "It's a nice contrast, I thought."

"Green and dark gray and then the light gray of your fur..." Jack looked Aster up and down, very blatantly, and then nodded. "Very nice contrast. Wearing it for someone special?"

"Oh, well," he floundered. Special? "Public," he blurted, and flailed a little desperately at the FunWorld sign. "It's different from the rink. Or the street."

"Yeah," Jack said, his eyes crinkling as he obviously fought against a smile. "I can see that. You should dress up more, you look really good." And another obvious up and down, and strewth he did _not_ want to be flirting with a _teenager_ right now.

Said teenager was flirting with him. Any moment now a mob of enraged parents would gather and run him out of town.

"So you never answered," Jack said, jolting Aster out of his terrified thoughts. "Something special going on here?"

"Oh." Aster cleared his throat. "Uh, not really? I mean, I was supposed to go on a blind date, but Jana didn't tell me who I'd be going out with. And you're the first person to approach me."

Jack paused, and handed over several bills to the admissions officer in exchange for two wristbands, which was about the moment Aster realized they'd somehow gotten in line and gotten into the park while they'd been talking. "That wasn't nice of her," Jack said, suspiciously mild. "On the other hand, that sounds very much like Professor Cvetkov. She's like that in class, too. Wrist please."

He held up his hand, and frowned while Jack put the bright pink bracelet on him. Jack's bracelet was a sparkly blue that shed glitter. "Jana teaches college," he pointed out.

"Yup. Need to fill out the history bingo card before they let me graduate." Jack took Aster's hand, somehow making five fingers work with four, and started towards the rental shack. "For our last big history project we had to work in groups, but she wouldn't tell us who we were working with, just gave us slips of paper with our assigned subjects and told us to talk with each other, figure it out. I ended up with the backup quarterback, some grandmother who signed up 'cause she was bored, and the lead guitar of a death metal band." He glanced back at Aster, eyes twinkling. "We kicked butt on the oral report."

Aster blinked. "You're in college," he said, and looked over the putters available for rent. "Green," he decided, since the electrified-grass shade was the least offensive. He was given a golf ball the exact same shade, while Jack got blue.

"Yeah, I'm in college. Gonna get my masters in physics. Love the math theories." He stopped, still holding Aster's hand, and looked around. "Got any issues with the ice trail?"

"No? Never been here?" Wait, he needed to stop asking questions. "What's wrong with the ice trail?"

"It's long, but since today's small child day, should be practically empty." Jack pointed towards what was presumably the start of the ice trail, a path marked with a blue flag. The flowers planted along the path, Aster saw with some amusement, were all shades of blue or white.

"I suppose I don't mind, as long as there's no actual ice." Jack looked confused. "It's hard to fit boots, and they never have the right traction, and my feet are always cold. I can bundle up the rest of me pretty easy, but hands and feet tend to go numb."

"Yeah, I can understand that. Me, I love the ice." They started down the path, still hand in hand. Aster couldn't help but stare at the way their fingers were interlaced. "Mind you, I guess that's what happens when your parents own the town's ice rink," Jack added, staring upwards thoughtfully. "You either love it or hate it. Skating, I mean," he said, because apparently he needed to explain. Not that his explanations made any sense.

"Your family owned an ice rink?" he asked.

"Owns, present tense. Mom's the Overland."

Aster opened his mouth - no idea what to say, but he was sure he had questions - but they had reached the first hole. Jack let out a crow of glee, and bounded forwards, hand still entwined with Aster's so the Pooka was dragged along behind.

The first hole was rather simple, for mini-golf; a bunch of foam 'icicles' rose up from the ground, more like stalagmites than anything. There was a bit of a slope, a shallow corner, and a snowman leering at everyone.

Jack put on a production, as if it were a professional green and he was looking good for his sponsors. As a result, Aster won by three strokes.

They meandered to the next, Jack somehow manoeuvring Aster into talking about the plantings, the way the Lily of the Nile blended with the spring starflower, and the types of mulch that'd been used. For some reason, Jack looked interested the entire time, and asked questions that showed he'd been listening, even if he didn't fully understand what Aster had been going on about.

At hole two, Jack talked about studying math, some esoteric undergraduate degree that'd lead into an even more complicated theoretical physics degree.

"Kinda like Sheldon on the Big Bang Theory, only with more people skills and less visits to the Arctic," Jack said. "Wanna avoid the singing snowman?"

Aster gave the thing a narrow look, and nodded. "Damn straight."

So they skipped the third hole.

"Wait," Aster said, just before they started playing the fourth hole. "You're in _college_."

"Yes," Jack agreed, looking amused.

"You're not a teenager!"

"Twenty-seven next April," Jack confirmed.

"I thought you were a kid!" Not that Jack currently looked like a kid - and wait, he was twenty-six, that was only a fifteen-ish year difference. It was _okay_ to look. Sort of. Better than he'd thought it'd be, still worse than... wait.

"Jack," he said, slowly, carefully puzzling things over. Jana had said she'd set him up with a student - Jack was one of her students. She'd told him nothing about his date, just that his date would know him. And Jack had been the first person to approach him since he'd arrived. Jack had paid for their entry and held his hand and they'd talked about their mutual interests - "Is this a _date_?"

Jack immediately cracked up laughing. Aster stared at him. Jack doubled over, braced on his pastel-blue putter, wheezing with humour. Aster continued to stare at him, up to the point where Jack fell to his knees and rolled onto his side, still laughing.

"I can always leave," he pointed out, doing his best to sound mild as milk and not exasperated and contemplating maiming. It was difficult, considering he felt like he was being laughed at, but he did his best.

"Sorry, it's just - you sounded so scandalized." Jack wiped tears from his eyes, and sat up. He held up one hand, and looked pleading.

Aster sighed, but gave Jack a hand up. He hadn't pulled very hard, mostly just held still and gave Jack a bit of leverage, but somehow Jack stumbled and ended up pressed against him, chest to chest and nearly mouth to mouth.

Their faces were very close together.

Jack's breath smelled like mint.

Either Aster had shrunk or Jack was taller than he seemed, because - well, because.

"Hey there," Jack said, and smiled.

Aster's eyes were nearly doubled in size. "Um," he squeaked, and then squeaked a second time because hand! Hand on his - below his tail! "Jack!"

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Jack said, and stepped away. Aster felt at once relieved, confused, and a little cold. "Do Pooka kiss? This has actually kept me up at night, wondering."

"Yes?" Kept him up...? "Sort of?"

"Cool." Jack picked up his putter, and then stared at Aster. "So, I really like you. Have since you started your blind dating thing. I want to finish off this date with you, make out a little, then go out with you a second time and make out a lot. Is that a problem?"

Was that a - "Why didn't you _say_ anything?" he asked, ears falling back.

Jack wrinkled his nose. "No major flirting on duty, and I only really saw you when I was working..."

"Oh." Aster picked up his putter, and nodded. "Okay. Yes. Uh, to a second date."

"Great!" Jack patted Aster on the arse again, and laughed. "C'mon, loser has to buy the winner an ice cream cone."


	6. Marriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since April First is also April Fools, have the shortest chapter in this fic.
> 
> ... I have no idea how that's a joke, but it's what you get.

The wedding was everything a Christian father could want for his little girl, and everything a Hindu mother demanded. Tooth, who would have been happy at the courthouse in jeans and t-shirt, had left her parents to it. "They're paying for it anyways," she'd said, a wry twist to her mouth. "I don't care, and it makes them happy."

Now, well... Aster supposed it'd worked out. The dress - or Sari, rather - was pure Hindu, a rich red and gold that managed to blend well with Tooth's green and violet feathers. The ceremony had been performed by a Catholic priest, some cousin or uncle or something, who knew better than to complain that the groom couldn't talk. There'd been signed vows and some tears, and now there was cake, enough spices in the curry to set off the fire alarm, and a strange mix of pop music and something that sounded right out of Bollywood.

"It's not," Tooth assured him. She was light as a feather in his arms as they twirled around the floor. "It's traditional - well, according to my mother, it's traditional. I don't know if it actually is, back in India."

"Fair enough." Aster smiled, and caught sight of Jack dancing with Sandy. The two of them had turned the gentle waltz into something disturbingly like a polka. He didn't want to know.

And yet... Jack wasn't wearing a tux or anything, but the lines of his shirt pulled tight across his shoulders, the gestures and arcs of his arms were like - words failed him, but it was the same as the curve of a flower petal or the way water spray threw off rainbows. Jack's laugh was high and musical, carrying over the music.

"Tooth?" he asked, heart climbing to lodge somewhere around his breastbone. "When did you... know? That Sandy was it?"

Tooth glanced over her shoulder, and then looked up at him, expression warm, knowing, and faintly delighted. "I could live without him, you know," she said. "But the important thing is, _I don't want to_." She patted him on the shoulder, and pulled away as the song ended. "Love's easy. Together's hard. You'll do fine, alright?"

Aster swallowed, and then smiled as Jack escorted Sandy over to Tooth, bowed with a flourish, and stepped away.

"Hey, Cottontail," Jack said, eyes gleaming. "Care to dance?"

Love moved through him, and he smiled back. Yeah, he had a feeling they'd do just fine. "Sure thing, Frostbite."


	7. Misc - Morning 2.0

For a night owl, Jack was always up disgustingly early. Depending on whether he had a morning class or not, he could always roll over and go back to sleep, but sometimes that wasn't an option.

In his opinion, two six-o-clocks in a day was just disgusting.

It was easier to sleep later now, though. Even when he and Aster did nothing more than talk, and cuddle, and touch each other gently, he slept like a peaceful baby. It was the fur, he'd privately decided, after their first night together. The sex hadn't even been on the table, then; it'd been, quite simply, that Jack had been drinking a little and hadn't felt safe driving, and the couch wasn't something Aster wanted to inflict on anyone. So they'd cuddled, and slept, and he'd woken up in the Pooka's embrace, and it'd just been so peaceful.

And he'd also been kind of late for his morning class, so peace had been flung out the window along with a pillow, but he'd apologized and patched things up that very afternoon.

This morning, well... Sunday meant no classes. Early morning meant being able to lie around in bed, drowsing and keeping time with the beat of Aster's heart.

Because, as was now usual, he was curled up in bed with the Pooka. A little more literally than most people probably meant 'curled up with'.

It was a good thing he could sleep in any position, really.

Aster slept nose tucked to his knees, shoulders and hips and spine all twisted in various ways that should've hurt but instead looked insanely comfortable. Jack, if he wanted to fit in that circle, had to drape himself over and under and around, which actually worked out pretty well once he got used to it. Aster usually ended up drooling on Jack's calf; Jack normally ended up with his snores muffled in the ruff between Aster's shoulder blades.

Jack carded his fingers through the longer hairs on Aster's shoulder, and smiled. He liked mornings, now. It wasn't just rushing to get to school or trying to ignore the sound of a little sister (beloved at any other time of the day, just not first thing) thumping around as she got ready in the mornings. It was soft fur and heavy breathing and a feeling of comfort, even safety.

They'd had sex for the first time in the morning, some time just past dawn but before any stores would be open. Aster had made a crack about fur and kinky sex, but it hadn't been. Sensual, yes. The feel of Aster's soft pelt against Jack's bare skin was addictive, and the feeling of being opened up and then filled was... well, it could be pornographic, but that first time it'd been a comfort, a security, a warmth in brilliant green eyes and a grip that cherished, not controlled.

Aster had surprised him with breakfast on his birthday, and Jack had stayed home from class on Aster's birthday so they could spend all day in bed. They'd gone to sleep angry with each other and woken up content, which had something to do with hormones; Jack gave most biological sciences exactly as much attention as they deserved, which was to say none, so he wasn't entirely certain why Aster had cracked up laughing when he'd put the effect down to adrenaline.

There'd been an attempt at flower petals and candles, and they'd woken up the next morning to a room that smelt like smoke and fur and hair that needed the burned ends trimmed off. There'd been arguments about blankets, which always ended in them getting kicked off by morning and Jack trying to crawl under Aster in his sleep. There'd been mornings where they'd woken each other with loving kisses, and other mornings where there'd been glasses of water poured on faces.

Jack had to say, he quite enjoyed the sleepy, slow waking mornings, like this one.

He doubted it'd be quite so sleepy and slow when he pulled the jewellery box out from under the bed, though. Pooka couldn't wear finger-rings, but he'd been assured that the bracelet design he'd picked out meant the same thing.

He closed his teeth on Aster's ear, nibbling gently. He'd never been too patient, and there wasn't any faster way to wake the Pooka up than this sort of gentle persuasion.

He could ask after.

(As it happened, Aster surprised him with an engagement ring first. They almost lost it during the short, yet active, pillow fight.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you want to know something amusing? Never mind, I'm going to tell you anyways.
> 
> For this short little series I came up with a backstory, somewhat altered history, and cultural norms for this world, where Pooka evolved from a rabbit-like species in South America at the same time as humans were evolving in Africa. I used pretty much none of it in the fic.
> 
> It might get recycled for another 'real world' story, though I don't have any plans for another one as yet.


End file.
